Embrace It
by SingularityStar
Summary: Harry is struggling to cope in the aftermath of the final battle.  Can the women in his life show him that life is still worth living even after so much has been lost?   A collection of four stand alone oneshots, featuring Ginny, Luna, Molly, and Hermione
1. Ginny Weasley

**A/N: This story is written in four distinct chapters, each focusing on a different way that Harry might have coped in the aftermath of the final battle, and involves one of the women in Harry's life. These stories should all be viewed as separate entities and not as one continual story. I hope you enjoy.**

"You have your D.A. coins, right?" Harry said urgently, his gaze flickering back and forth between his two best friends, who nodded their heads in response. "If anything happens, you let me know. Anything."

"We'll be fine, mate," Ron replied with shadow of a grin. "Portkey to Australia, nab the Grangers, portkey back. No worries."

"Yeah," Hermione added, looking less certain, "the explaining will be the hard part."

"They'll understand, Hermione," Harry said, reassuringly, noticing the tears welling up in her eyes. "They love you. Just stick to the basics for now. And if all else fails, just pin all the blame on me." He attempted a wry smile that fell flat.

Hermione threw her arms around Harry in a tight embrace. "None of this was your fault. Stop saying that," she hissed into his ear. He didn't answer. They had had this discussion before and it never ended well. She loosened her grip and looked him in the eye. "You'll be alright without us, won't you?"

Harry felt a lump of dread settle into his stomach. This would be the first night he would be spending away from his best friends since the battle at Hogwarts. It had been nearly a month since he defeated Voldemort, and his life had been a whirlwind of joys and sorrows, celebrations and memorial services. The only constant had been his two best friends at his side. Well, that and the nightmares, the demons that haunted his sleep each night. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he would be ok.

Still, he pulled away from Hermione and looked her square in the eye. "I'll be fine. It's you two I'm worried about. There are still a lot of death eaters out there. Take care of yourselves."

"We'll be fine," Ron repeated, punching Harry lightly in the shoulder. "You worry too much." He grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Subconsciously, he reached over and intertwined his fingers with Hermione's. Hermione squeezed his hand in return, and in that gesture, Harry realized that the two of them would do whatever it took to protect one another. They would be fine without him.

"We'll be back by the end of the week," Hermione added. "And we'll use the coin if anything happens. I swear."

Harry nodded. The old newspaper on the ground before them slowly began to glow blue.

"That's our ride!" Ron called out, picking it up and holding it out to Hermione. She quickly reached out, grabbed the corner of the paper, and with a last look at Harry, the two of them vanished.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, uncertain of what to do now that they were gone. He hadn't realized how much he had been relying on the two of them the past few weeks. He thought briefly about seeking out Ginny, but things had been awkward between them; neither of them knew how to act around the other any more.

He needed to be alone, to think. He hesitated for a moment, trying to come up with a place where he wouldn't be interrupted. Eventually, he decided upon the broom shed. Mr. Weasley was at the ministry, so the chances of anyone being there were slim. Plus, no one had much been in the mood for Quidditch lately, so it was unlikely that he would be interrupted.

He eased open the heavy door and slipped inside. "_Lumos_," he murmured, pulling out his wand in the darkness. He gazed around the shed, casting _homenum revelio_to ensure no one was hidden inside. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he sank heavily onto a stool in the corner and allowed his thoughts to drift back to Hermione and Ron. He thought about how Ron had insisted that he go to Australia with Hermione, and how she gave in rather easily, despite how set she had seemed on going alone. "Prats," he muttered, smiling slightly. He was glad that his two best friends had finally put their pride aside and admitted that they liked one another. However, he wasn't sure where that left him. With everything else that had changed, he wasn't prepared for what this change would mean for the three of them. He wondered if he would mind so much if he wasn't alone.

His thoughts instantly jumped back to Ginny. He wasn't sure what her feelings were for him, but he knew that he loved her. He had never stopped loving her. His mind drifted back to the time they had spent together: the look in her eyes before they had kissed for the first time, the way the sunlight looked reflecting off her hair as they spent an afternoon by the lake, the way her hand fit so perfectly into his, the gift she had given him for his birthday... Even when she wasn't around, his thoughts had drifted to her. All those nights spent watching her dot on the Marauder's map, wondering what she was doing, how she was doing, imagining the future they could have together when it was all over.

All of that was beside the point, however. He realized now that they could never be together. Heading to bed that first night after the battle, he felt at peace, but he had woken up the next morning to the realization that it wasn't over - it would never be over. He felt the blood of all those who had died at Hogwarts on his hands and nothing anyone said to him could change that. He was a killer, damaged goods, no use to anyone. He often wondered if he had made the right decision, coming back from King's Cross. Dumbledore had told him that he had a choice. At the time, returning had seemed like the right thing to do, but now he wasn't so sure. Harry shook himself out of this train of thought. Even if he had made a mistake, there was no going back now. He just had to try to make the best of what was left, had to do what was right for the people he hadn't allowed to die.

He would leave, tomorrow, before Ron and Hermione came back and tried to stop him. It wasn't an idea he was particularly fond of, but that would be best for everyone. Ginny could forget about him; she could find someone else, someone better, someone who wouldn't constantly put her in danger. Ron and Hermione could spend their lives together, happily bickering without him, following their own paths for once instead of being dragged along on his. And Harry would do his best to stay out of their lives. At least he would know that they were safer without him. He just hoped that he wouldn't mess this up as badly as he had messed up everything else.

* * *

Ginny rolled on to her back with a sigh. She couldn't sleep, not that it was anything new for her really. She couldn't remember the last time she had really slept well. She had worried herself sick ever since Hermione, Ron, and Harry had left on their mission. When she returned to Hogwarts, she had thrown herself into leading Dumbledore's Army with Neville and Luna to occupy her thoughts during the day, but she couldn't escape the nightmares. Ever since being possessed by the diary in her first year, the nightmares had periodically haunted her, and they had only intensified since the battle. The faces of the dead and the living bled together until she could no longer distinguish who had been lost and who had survived. It was hell for her, but she knew that others had it worse, so she didn't mention it. Through the ceiling she heard muffled cries and let out a sigh.

_Harry must be dreaming again._

****Nearly every night she awoke to his muffled cries of distress as he tossed and turned on the floor above. The languishing sounds were always interrupted by the soothing voice of Hermione and an occasional comment from Ron. She knew she was daft to be jealous of them, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be the one to wake him from his nightmares. To soothe him, to hold his hand and stroke his hair, but it wasn't her he needed. He had made that abundantly clear with his distance.

In the immediate aftermath of the battle, she had been certain that it was only a matter of time before they were together again. They had both survived, due only to a combination of love and sheer luck. After Voldemort fell, Ginny had rushed to embrace him, relishing the feel of his arms around her. They held each tightly for only a brief moment until he was pulled away for others to embrace. She watched him through that long day, but was unable to get near to him until the next morning. By that time, something had changed. He was a different person: haunted, solemn. He agreed to return to the burrow without argument, but rarely spoke to anyone besides Ron and Hermione. Despite the month they had spent living together, she and Harry had never once been alone. They had exchanged only passing comments

She understood, of course. He had been through a lot. Ron and Hermione had been through it with him, so it made sense that the three of them would want to be together. She knew it would take time. She had to wait, to give him the space that he needed for now, but it was so difficult when she could hear his pain every night and could do nothing to stop it. She felt a tear run down her check as she waited for the cries to cease, to be replaced with the calming voices of the other two, but they continued. _What's taking them so long?_ She thought bitterly. Then she remembered...Ron and Hermione had left for Australia that afternoon. Harry was alone, locked in his nightmares with no one to wake him.

Without a second thought, she threw back the covers, leapt out of bed, and pattered quickly up the stairs to the room where Harry fitfully slept. She paused for a moment at the door, drew a breath then pushed it open.

There he was, tossing violently in a pool of moonlight, tangled in the bedcovers. Ginny crossed to the bed and crawled up next to him. She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand upon his bare shoulder. It was the first time she had touched him since their embrace after Voldemort's defeat. She let her hand rest there for a moment before shaking him gently. "Harry," she called softly, to no result. She tried again, leaning over him and shaking him more firmly. "Harry, wake up." He woke with a jolt, roughly grabbing Ginny's arm with one hand while the other hand held his wand inches from her face. Ginny sat back with a shudder at the look of ferocity in his eyes.

"It's ok, Harry, you were dreaming," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

"Ginny?" he said squinting at her as he lowered his wand and released his grip on her arm. She nodded as he fumbled for his glasses and pushed himself upright. "_Lumos_," he muttered, the tip of his wand lighting. "What are you doing here?"

"You were having a nightmare. I could hear you..." she trailed off, rubbing her arm absently.

"Merlin, Gin, what did I do to you? Are you alright?" Harry held his lit wand up to her arm, where the imprint of his fingers could clearly be seen blossoming into a bruise.

"It's nothing," she said dismissively, despite the throbbing she felt. "You were asleep. It was an accident."

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's these damn nightmares. They're always lurking. The second I close my eyes, I'm back at Hogwarts and..." He cleared his throat and brushed a trembling hand hastily across his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you. It's fine. They're just dreams. Go back to sleep."

Ginny could sense the dismissal, but she was tired of being pushed away.

"You know Harry, just because you're 'the chosen one' doesn't mean you always have to be a hero."

He looked at her strangely. "I'm not...I-"

"Right," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You haven't spoken more than a few words to anyone since you got here. You hardly even look at me." She dropped her eyes, but forced herself to continue. "If you don't want to be with me, that's fine Harry. We can be friends at least, can't we? You don't have to do this alone."

Harry sighed, "It's not that, Ginny. It's just…better this way. I'm no good to anyone anymore. I'm falling apart."

"Well, what if I don't care if you're not any good for me? What if I can be good for you?" She smiled mischievously and moved to curl up against him.

"Ginny? What are you doing?" he cringed away from her touch. "Please, don't do this, not now."

"Why not now, Harry?" Ginny spit back. "What's stopping you?" He didn't answer. "Come on, Potter, at least talk to me! I want to help you."

He nearly reached out to grab her hand, but stopped and ran it through his hair in frustration. "You can't help me. I just make a mess of everything."

"Stop it, Harry. You're the bloody saviour of the world. Self-pity doesn't suit you."

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "Some saviour. More than fifty people dead, fifty people I didn't save."

"Is that what this is about? Voldemort and his Death Eaters were the ones who killed them, Harry, not you. You're the one who stopped him. You saved countless others that he would have killed. You were willing to die to save everyone."

"I should have stayed dead."

Ginny slapped him across the face, seething with anger. "Don't you ever say that again."

Harry slowly raised his eyes to look at her, his jaw clenched. "I think you should go."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe this was a mistake." She climbed off the bed and crossed to the door. "You're not the only one with nightmares, you know." She left the room.

Harry stared after her long after she was gone.

* * *

Ginny lay awake long after she returned to her room, the conversation she had with Harry playing through her mind. She couldn't believe that she had hit him. She still thought that he deserved it, but wished that she hadn't. It had just been such a shock to hear him say that he should have died, in that terrible, hollow tone. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't think she could face him yet. She didn't want to look into his eyes and not see the spark that used to be there.

Finally, she drifted into a fitful sleep, the conversation from earlier blending seamlessly into her dreams. There was Harry, once again dead in Hagrid's arms. Only this time, she knew that he wouldn't return, he wouldn't spring up to save the day. He was really gone, and without him, they were all dead. Voldemort would win. There was no hope.

"Ginny, come on. Wake up, Gin." She awoke with tears in her eyes. She looked up to see who it was that had awoken her, and was startled to see Harry's green eyes staring back at her, stricken with concern and very much alive. It took everything she had not to throw herself into his arms.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, still in a whisper, sitting at the edge of her bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just another bloody nightmare." She brushed the tears from her eyes, angry that Harry had seen her like this.

"I never realized that you had them, too." Harry dropped his gaze and began to play with a frayed string in her blanket. "Bit dense of me to think I was the only one, I guess."

"That's an understatement," she shot back. Her voice softened as she continued. "After six years I guess I got pretty good at hiding them."

His eyes flicked up and met hers. She could see him calculating in his head, but it wasn't something she wanted to bring up again.

"Why did you come down here?" she redirected before Harry could say anything.

He shrugged, "I heard you from upstairs and figured you had woken me earlier, so I should return the favour." His mouth twitched into a half grin, but it faded quickly. "Look Ginny, I'm sorry about what I said before. I shouldn't have said it."

"Damn right you shouldn't have. You shouldn't have even thought it."

"I can't help it. Part of his soul was inside of me, Ginny. Every breath I took was helping to keep him alive. That has to make me at least partially responsible for everything that happened, everyone who died." He hung his head, and went back to studying the loose threads of her quilt.

"No, Harry. It doesn't. You walked up to him, prepared to die to save everyone. You knew, just as everyone who went to Hogwarts that night, everyone who has ever stood up to Voldemort, knew that defeating him was more important than individual lives. Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Fred, Colin, your parents, even Dobby, they all knew what they were facing. They were all willing to accept the consequences. They knew going into it that they might not survive. We all did." She paused for a moment. "Do you know what it was like to see Hagrid carrying your body back to the castle, thinking that those few stolen moments by the lake would be the only ones we would ever have? Thinking that I'd never again hold your hand, or hear your voice, or see you smile. Thinking that I'd lost you before I even had a chance to tell you that I loved you."

She reached out and touched his face, lifting his chin until they were making eye contact. "Because I do love you. You survived, Harry. Do you think any one of those people who gave their life to defeat Voldemort would want you to waste yours wallowing in guilt? They loved you, Harry. They would be happy that you survived, that you finally have an opportunity to have a life free of the shadow of Voldemort. That's what they were fighting for. You're still alive, Harry. Embrace it."

Before she could stop herself, she was leaning in and kissing him. After a moment of surprised hesitation, he kissed her back.


	2. Luna Lovegood

Harry sat huddled behind the broom shed at the Burrow, oblivious to the pouring rain. It hadn't been his idea to move in with the Weasleys, but after everything that had happened, he wasn't sure where else to go. He loved the Weasleys as if they were his own family, but he couldn't bear to be in the same room with any of them for too long. Not after what had happened to Fred. Not when he could have prevented it.

He worked very hard at keeping everything bottled up when others were around. The Weasleys had enough to deal with without Harry throwing his problems into the mix, so he kept himself closed off, doing his best to act as if everything were fine. He spoke when necessary, forcing a smile when appropriate, laughing at every slight attempt at a joke, and comforting the others when they broke down. He knew that he had to be the strong one, despite the constant feeling that he was mere seconds from falling apart. Each passing day, it grew more and more difficult to keep up his facade. His solitary retreats to the broom shed were becoming more and more frequent, and it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. He couldn't let that happen. As tired as he was of pretending that he was all right, he knew he had to keep up the charade for as long as it took. As long as they needed him, he would be there. His own emotions would just have to wait. 

Harry took a deep breath, knowing his time was almost up. He stared unseeingly into the trees, attempting to clear his mind and pull himself together.

"Hi Harry," a voice interrupted his thoughts.

He glanced up quickly and was surprised to see a soaking wet Luna Lovegood standing before him, grinning widely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your blank stare."

"Hello, Luna," Harry responded, forcing a smile onto his face. "No worries. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley invited me over for dinner. Daddy was going to come too, but he's rather busy trying to put the house back together."

Harry felt a guilty twitch in his stomach. Something else he was responsible for.

"So what are you doing out here all alone? Trying to evade the wrackspurts? It's true they don't like rain much."

"Something like that," Harry responded, motioning for Luna to sit and join him. "Trying to evade my thoughts, more like."

"Well, I'm not sure that sitting behind a broom shed will help much with that."

"Hasn't been working so far," Harry acknowledged smiling slightly. 

"Are you thinking about the battle again, and all the people who died?"

Harry gaped at her for a moment, taken aback by her uncanny ability to cut to the heart of a matter. He contemplated lying, but when he met her eyes, he found himself nodding.

"It is rather sad," Luna continued. "I didn't know many of the people very well, but Colin had always been nice to me in the D.A., and Professor Lupin was a very interesting teacher. They must have all been very brave, choosing to go to Hogwarts to try to defeat Voldemort, even though they knew that they might die."

"They shouldn't have died. It's my fault. If I had stopped him sooner..."

"Everyone dies sometime, Harry. No one can stop it forever. By beating Voldemort, you made sure that they died for a reason. They wanted the world to be a better place, and now it can be."

Harry didn't respond.

"You didn't kill anyone, Harry. You didn't even kill Voldemort. He did that himself."

Harry bowed his head bowed, allowing Luna's words to flow through him and settle in his mind.

"It's alright if you don't believe me though. I'm pretty used to that. People often have a hard time seeing the truth, even when it's right in front of them." She climbed to her feet and reached a hand out to him.

He looked up at her, confused

"You can let go, Harry. You're still alive. Embrace it." She retracted her hand and stepped back into the rain. With her eyes closed, she slowly began moving, her steps and gestures becoming more fluid until she was completely and unabashedly dancing.

Harry watched her for several moments, his expression softening.

"Come on, Harry," she called to him.

He hesitated for a moment before climbing unsteadily to his feet and stepping into the rain, close to Luna. She reached out and grasped his hand, twirling awkwardly to a rhythm only she could hear. Harry glanced around, self-consciously. He had never been one for dancing. His one and only experience had been at the Yule Ball, and that had been a complete disaster. But this was different. And no one was watching...

Slowly, he began to move, trying to imitate what Luna was doing, but it was impossible. He stopped. "Luna, I-".

"Close your eyes," she ordered, barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. "Don't think so much. Just feel."

He raised an eyebrow at her sceptically, but reluctantly closed his eyes. Nothing happened for several moments, except that he felt rather stupid. "Luna, I-"

"Shh, just feel, Harry."

Harry grimaced. This is exactly what he had been working so hard to avoid the past couple of weeks, but maybe was what he needed. He was exhausted from feigning strength and holding everything inside. Maybe it was time to open up. He took a deep breath and cautiously began to let down his defences. Almost immediately, he could see Lupin's face, smiling and complimenting his excellent patronus. His face was replaced by Colin's, half hidden behind a camera as he called out, "Alright there, Harry?" Next was Fred's, spread into a wide smile as he handed over the Marauder's Map and explained how to use it. Now Tonks, bright pink hair, wiggling her fingers at him to show off her wedding ring. Dobby, grinning widely after being freed; Sirius offering a new home away from the Dursleys; Dumbledore, eyes twinkling as he swallows an earwax flavoured bean; Mad-eye Moody, preaching constant vigilance; his mum and dad smiling at him with tears in their eyes...

Harry began moving slowly as the faces began to blend together. He could see everyone he had ever loved and lost. All of the best memories he had ever had with them, combining into a singular feeling of joy and love. He moved faster, trying to express the enormity of what he was feeling. He thought he might be crying, but with the rain, it was impossible to tell. The only thing that mattered was to keep moving, to keep hold of this feeling and not let go.

Until he felt himself collide with something. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back immersed in the mud. He sat up, dazed and peered around, trying to piece together what had happened. Luna was lying in the mud next to him, and Harry realized that she had been the 'something' that he had hit.

"Luna! I'm so sorry, are you all right?"

She looked up at him, her wide eyes seemingly the only part of her not covered in mud, and began to laugh. And suddenly, he was laughing, too, a full, deep laugh, very different than the fake one he had been using for the past few weeks. Now, tears were definitely streaming down his face. He wasn't sure if they were out of joy or sorrow, but he didn't care.

When they had sufficiently recovered, Luna sat up and looked at Harry with her familiar dreamy expression. "See, Harry? They all loved you, and they're all a part of you, so they'll never really be gone. You can let go and move on, knowing that they're ok, and they'll always be with you." 

He beamed at her and nodded.

"Let's go inside and get cleaned up for dinner." He said, climbing to his feet, his trainers squishing in the mud. Once up, he turned and offered a hand to Luna. He pulled her to her feet, but didn't immediately let go.

"Thanks, Luna," he murmured, gently squeezing her hand.

She smiled at him again, and returned the gesture. "I'm glad to be your friend, Harry." Letting go, she started toward the Burrow. "Come on, I hope there's pudding."


	3. Molly Weasley

Harry slouched in his seat and stared into the fire roaring in the Gryffindor common room, struggling to stay awake. The first day after Voldemort's defeat had been a long one. The newly appointed minister of magic had wasted no time in questioning the trio. Seeing no point in keeping secrets any longer, at least not from Kingsley, they had told him the entire story, starting with what Harry had learned in his lessons with Dumbledore, and ending, of course, with the final showdown in the Great Hall. Harry felt like he had relived the entire experience as it was retold and could barely keep his eyes open as he sunk deeper into the overstuffed armchair. The retelling had made everything more real, forced Harry to make connections he hadn't been able to make the first time, realizations that turned his stomach. He glanced across the room at the place where his friends shared a couch. Hermione was huddled up next to Ron, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped protectively around her, fiddling absentmindedly with a strand of her hair. They both had their eyes closed and looked as exhausted as Harry felt. He felt a strange longing as he observed his friends' embrace, and suddenly felt very alone.

Over the last two days, he had been embraced countless times; embraces of sorrow, of joy, of celebration. He had been embraced as they boy who lived, the man who survived, the chosen one, the hero, the saviour, but not one of these embraces amounted to what he was witnessing on that couch: a casual embrace of mutual comfort. He might have just stood face to face with the most powerful dark wizard of the age and emerged victorious, but he was still only seventeen years old. A teenager who would like nothing more than to crawl someplace safe and sleep for days, to let other people handle things for awhile.

He was still just Harry. He wished someone would realize that.

Kingsley strode purposefully into the room, arousing the trio from their stupor. "All of the arrangements have been made. Right now, your safety is our primary concern. Despite the fact that Voldemort is now truly gone, you are still in danger. There are still those who want you dead." The trio exchanged glances, but said nothing. They knew this.

"Therefore, I think it's best if you lay low for awhile," Kingsley continued. "You're all in a weakened state after what you've been through, and I'm sure reliving it today didn't help. What you need is to go somewhere safe, somewhere you can recover in relative safety." He dropped his official tone. "The Ministry has placed extra wards around the Burrow, and Molly is expecting you all for dinner," Kingsley finished with a smile.

Harry saw Ron and Hermione's faces break into relieved grins as his heart sank. He had known that this suggestion would be made eventually, but had hoped it wouldn't be so soon. It was a logical next step, but it was one Harry couldn't take.

"I'm staying here."

Ron looked at him incredulously. "You heard Kingsley. We'll be safe at the Burrow."

Harry just shook his head. "You and Hermione can go there, but I'm staying at Hogwarts." Harry glared at Kingsley defiantly.

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged Harry, but don't you think you'd be more comfortable at the Burrow? Everyone is waiting for you."

"No," Harry replied shortly, his temper, aided by exhaustion, getting the best of him. "I don't belong there. Not now."

"Harry, don't do this," Hermione pleaded softly, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I don-" Ron started.

Harry leapt to his feet, temper exploding, "I killed your brother! Don't you see that? If it wasn't for me, Fred would still be alive! It's my fault! I can never go back there!" He turned his back and stalked quickly up the stairs to his old dormitory. The others stared after him in disbelief, too shocked to follow.

Harry sat in the window of the dormitory and watched the light slowly fade. He knew he couldn't stay at Hogwarts forever, but he wasn't sure where else to go. With the Death Eaters gaining access to Grimmauld Place, it could take some time to ensure that it was safe again. He really didn't want to be alone right now. His thoughts were racing, and every sound made him jump. He missed Ron and Hermione, and wanted to hold Ginny in his arms, but how could he intrude into their home when he was the cause of their sorrow?

How could they ever even look at him again?

At a knock on the door, Harry sprang to his feet, wand drawn. The door opened to reveal Mrs. Weasley. Her gaze took in the sight of Harry, standing in duelling position and a faint glint of pity and concern crossed her features, but it passed quickly.

"There you are, Harry dear. Get your things, it's time to go," she said briskly.

Harry stared at her.

"Come now, it's silly for you to be here alone while your family is back home waiting."

Harry gasped, wand arm falling at his side. _Had she really just called him family? Now? After what he had done?  
_  
"I-I can't. No, it's better if I just stay here." Harry turned his back and retreated back to the window. _She's just feeling guilty_, Harry told himself. _No one really wants me there, but she feels bad that I don't have anywhere else to go.  
_  
"Harry James Potter," Mrs. Weasley scolded in a tone that didn't allow for argument, "I just Apparated halfway across Britain, leaving behind a house full of people who have been worried sick about you for months. They love you and want you with them. You will not keep them waiting any longer."

Harry envisioned the people waiting at the Burrow. For every face he saw waiting, he saw another one who was gone. One that Harry had been unable to protect, one that he had been too late to save.

"I can't," he repeated softly. "I don't belong there. Not anymore. I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly. You just defeated the most powerful dark wizard of the age, Harry. Where else should you be now except with those who love you?"

"But I couldn't save them all!" the words were out before Harry could stop them. He could feel the tears burning behind his eyes as he struggled to hold them back. "I couldn't save Fred. I was right there, but I couldn't save him. It was all my fault." He sank onto his bed and finally gave voice to the words that had been haunting him. "It should have been me. If I had only gone to Voldemort soon-"

"Stop," Mrs. Weasley cut him off. "I won't have such talk. Fred made his own decisions, he knew the risks. We all did. He chose to fight because he believed that defeating Voldemort was worth dying for. Blaming yourself only serves to taint his courage and sacrifice."

Harry ducked his head as he felt his face redden. "It still should have been me." He felt Mrs. Weasley's hands enfold his face, but he couldn't meet her eyes.

"It shouldn't have been anyone, but good people sometimes die in the fight against evil. Harry, I hope you don't honestly think that any of us would be any happier if it was you who had died instead of Fred."

Harry pulled away. Of course he thought that. How could he not? Fred was her son, her family. It was common sense that she would prefer that he had survived over Harry.

"I'm sorry you felt like you needed to come here," he replied stiffly. "You should get back to your family. You should all be together. They need you." Harry walked back towards the window.

He heard Mrs. Weasley hesitate and then move towards the door. "You know," he heard her call over her shoulder, "whenever people asked me about my kids, I would tell them all about Bill's beautiful wife and his work at Gringott's, and Charlie's work with the dragons in Romania, and Percy working for the minister himself, and Fred," Harry heard her voice catch, but she took a breath and continued, "Fred and George starting their joke shop, and Ron's skill with chess and strategy, and Ginny's flourishing beauty and growing quidditch talent…"

Harry wondered why she was telling him all this. He knew the accomplishments of the Weasley clan. He opened his mouth to say so, but Mrs. Weasley continued.

"And then I would tell them about Hermione. How she always has top marks in everything and is poised to be head girl. And Harry," Harry glanced up at the sound of his name and saw tears brimming in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "I'd tell them, Harry was the youngest student to make a Hogwarts quidditch team in over a century. He was a Triwizard Champion and he's saved the lives of half our family. But I would never tell them how worried I was. I'd never tell them about the times you had faced down Voldemort, because I didn't want to think about them. I didn't want to think about how much danger you were in. I didn't want to think about losing you, how many times I had almost lost you.

"You're a part of this family, Harry. Don't pull away from us. We've already lost Fred, I don't think we could stand to lose you as well. I can't lose another son."

Harry couldn't stop the tears from coursing down his face as he walked directly into Mrs. Weasley's embrace. She pulled him in tight as he finally shed the tears that he had been holding inside. Mrs. Weasley gently stroked his hair and held him, their tears mingling. After several moments, Harry pulled away, wiping his face.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sorry, I've been quite a prat."

"Yes, well, you're seventeen. It's to be expected from time to time," she responded with a small smile.

Harry's mouth twitched and he almost smiled, but he quickly became somber again.

"I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't want to put the rest of you in danger. There are still Death Eaters out there and they're after me. I need to help find them. I need to finish this."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him sympathetically. "First of all, with Kingsley in charge of the ministry, the Burrow is one of the safest places in Britain, not to mention the Fidelius charm is still holding, so you needn't worry about our safety, although it is sweet of you. Secondly, after all we've done, we're all targets, Harry, with or without you. Thirdly, need I remind you that you recently put an end a very powerful dark wizard who many thought was invincible. I think you've done enough for now. Let some other people handle it for a little while."

Harry opened his mouth to protest.

"No excuses! You're coming home. There will still be plenty to do once you've rested up and gotten your strength back."

Harry closed his mouth and exhaled. She was right. "Home. That sounds lovely."

For the first time, Harry felt like a normal seventeen year old, going home for dinner with his family. He knew it was only an illusion, that all too soon he would be pulled back to the reality of the situation, but at that moment, it felt exactly right. 


	4. Hermione Granger

With a slight 'pop', Hermione apparated on the top step of number 12 Grimmauld Place. She smiled slightly in a self-satisfied way at her flawless utilization of the three D's, but her smile quickly faded as she remembered the reason she was there. As she slipped through the door, a light tinkling of bells announced her arrival.

"Hello...miss." Kreacher appeared suddenly, greeting her in a whisper with a slight inclination of his head.

Hermione struggled to hide her joy at the house elf's attempt at a respectful greeting. The two of them moved out of the entrance hall, away from the portrait of Mrs. Black.

"Hello, Kreacher. It's good to see you." Hermione responded happily once they were safely out of earshot, but her smile faded once more. "How is he?"

Kreacher shook his head sadly. "Not well. Master won't even let Kreacher into his room to clean anymore. And he doesn't eat the food that Kreacher makes. Kreacher makes Master's favorites, but he doesn't eat them."

Hermione sighed heavily. "It's not your fault, Kreacher. I'm sure you do your best. May I go up?"

Kreacher nodded reluctantly at her and turned to go back to the kitchen.

Hermione made her way up the stairs, hesitating outside his door, debating whether or not to knock. She could smell the odor of stale alcohol and unwashed body seeping out of his room. That decided it. Stooping to pick up a pitcher of water off a tray Kreacher had left in the hall next to a pile of freshly laundered robes, she pushed the door open and barged into the room.

Harry didn't stir from his position on the bed, tangled in the bedclothes, seemingly dead to the world, save for a slight snoring. She felt a moment of pity as she saw how long and unkempt his hair had gotten and how much weight he had lost. His cheeks were gaunt and hollow, and he appeared to have dark circles under his eyes. However, the sympathy evaporated as she took in the sea of empty liquor bottles surrounding the bed.

She marched carefully across the room and poured the pitcher over his head.

Sputtering in shock, Harry leapt to his feet, sending a curse flying with surprisingly good aim from the wand she hadn't noticed clenched tightly in his fist.

Effortlessly, Hermione cast a nonverbal shield charm and watched as Harry struggled to focus.

"Hermione? What the bloody hell was that?" He cried out, straightening his glasses as his eyes came to rest on her.

"Consider it your wake up call, Harry," she retorted, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Wake up call?" he mumbled, sinking back on the bed and rubbing his bleary eyes.

"Yes, wake up call." Hermione repeated. "What are you doing, Harry?" she lowered her voice in concern as she cast a quick drying charm on the bed, and sat next to him.

"Well, I was trying to sleep," he replied crossly, turning his bloodshot gaze back to her.

"You know that's not what I mean. What are you doing with your life?"

Harry sighed, "Don't start, Hermione. It's too early, I'm soaking wet, and my head is killing me."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "For your information, it's two in the afternoon, which is not usually considered early." She pulled a small potion bottle from her purse and handed it to him. "Here, this will help with the headache at least, but I warn you, it tastes awful."

Harry accepted the bottle with a grunt and downed it quickly. He grimaced at the taste, and grabbed a nearly empty bottle from his bedside table to wash it down. As he took a swig, some of the liquid dribbled down his chin and onto his bare chest.

"Charming," Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust as he finished the liquor. Harry didn't respond and they sat together in silence for several moments before Hermione spoke again.

"Not that it matters, but you missed my graduation from Hogwarts yesterday. Mrs. Weasley threw Ginny and I a very nice party at the Burrow. She and Mr. Weasley are quite proud; it's been a while since any of the Weasleys have actually graduated, you know," she finished with a brave attempt at a smile.

Harry looked up at her, "Was that yesterday? Hermione, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot. I must've lost track of the day. I meant to be there."

Hermione knew that wasn't the entire truth. Ron had been sent to fetch him, but he returned quickly, telling everyone that Harry, most unfortunately had another engagement, and would be unable to attend. She could tell that he had been lying, but when she caught his eye, he merely shook his head sadly. She hadn't fully understood the reason until she had seen Harry for herself.

She waved off Harry's apology, "It's not important."

"Yes, it is. You're one of my best friends. You have always been there for me. I know how important graduating is to you, I should've been there. I'm sorry. I always let everyone down."

"Harry Potter, will you listen to yourself? You need to stop this! No one is blaming you for anything except the downfall of Voldemort. And that's not blame so much as gratitude."

He shook his head. "That's just it. Everyone expects so much from me. I've given everything that I have. I don't have anything left."

"How do you even know if you refuse to try?"

"Maybe I am trying," he mumbled, reaching for a half full bottle lying next to the bed.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione vanished the bottle before he could grasp it. Harry pulled his hand back with an angry sigh and glared in Hermione's direction.

She met his glare with one of her own. "I'm not going to sit back and watch you throw your life away."

"Why not? I've served my purpose, Hermione. I destroyed Voldemort. There's nothing left for me now."

"How can you even think that, Harry? With Voldemort gone, you finally have a chance at a normal life! You and Ron were always going on about becoming Aurors, you can do that now. You can move on, follow your own path, not one that was determined for you. You're still alive, Harry. Embrace it."

Harry shook his head again. "I don't know how. I never thought I'd have a normal life. I never let myself imagine a future where Voldemort didn't exist, at least not one with me in it. So many people don't have this."

"So, obviously, the best way to honor those who died would be to drink yourself to death so you can join them. Brilliant."

He ducked his head. "I know it's stupid, but it's the only thing that stops the bloody nightmares."

Hermione felt a wave of pity as she looked at her friend. She was no stranger to nightmares, but could only imagine how much worse Harry's would be. She has always been there for him, whenever she could be, but it always seemed that he was left alone at the worst moments. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she knew she had to be firm right now. He didn't need her pity, he needed her strength. She steeled herself to ensure her voice wouldn't shake.

"Will you at least get up and take a shower? You smell atrocious. Kreacher left clean robes for you in the hall."

"So the pitcher of water you just dumped on my head doesn't count as a shower?"

Hermione just glared at him, arms crossed. "Fine, fine, I'm going," he surrendered, rolling his eyes. As he walked unsteadily to the door, Hermione could hear him mumbling something about thinking that his mother had died a long time ago.

Hermione ignored him, sitting primly on his bed as he stumbled from the room. The moment he was gone, she dissolved into tears.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't bear to be in the same room with him anymore. It killed her to see her best friend in such a state. Ron had told her that things were bad, but she never imagined that Harry could sink this deeply.

She shouldn't have left him. He had needed her and she had gone back to Hogwarts and left him here. If she had stuck around, maybe he would have coped better. She could have helped him; stopped things from getting this bad. She took a deep, shuddering breath: This wasn't the time for tears. Tears and blame would solve nothing. She climbed to her feet and glanced around the room. She needed to take advantage of the time she had. Maybe she couldn't fix everything, but she could do something.

By the time Harry returned, the room was almost unrecognizable. The bottles and debris had vanished, the bed made with fresh linen, even the layer of dust that had settled upon everything was gone.

"Er, wow, Hermione. Thanks for, um, tidying up a bit."

In response, she held out her wand, a pair of skimpy knickers dangling from the end. "So, who was she?"

"Merlin, Hermione," Harry exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red. "Can't a bloke have any privacy?"

"You're dodging the question. Who was she?"

"Does it really matter?" He reached out and grabbed the knickers, balling them up and flinging them into the corner.

"You don't know who she was, do you?"

Harry froze, his back to her. "Why are you here, Hermione? What is this really about?"

She took a deep breath, unsure of how he would react. "I'm taking you to the ministry to speak with Kingsley."

He looked towards her, confused. "What for?"

"He gave you an open invitation to join the Auror force whenever you were ready. Guess what. You're ready."

"Hermione, I can't. Look at me!" He stood and spread his arms wide. "I'm a wreck! You really think they'll let a washed up drunkard join the Auror force?"

"No, they most certainly will not. Which is why, as of right now, you've quit drinking."

"You're mental. It's the only thing I have left."

"Why thank you," she replied dryly.

"See what I mean? I can't even say the right things."

"I don't want you to say the right things, Harry. I want you to be honest, but I also want you to move on with your life, not get stuck here. There are people who care about you, Harry, and it kills us to see you like this. Did you even know that Ron came to see you yesterday? He was nearly in tears when he came back! He can't bear to see his best mate in this state! It's killing him, and it's killing me!"

"If you don't like it, you can go. You and Ron can go off together and live happily ever after without me!"

Hermione was silent for a moment. "We might just do that," she finally whispered. "He proposed to me yesterday." She held out her hand, displaying her engagement ring. "We're getting married."

Harry's face dropped. "Wow, that's great," he said hollowly, "I'm glad the two of you finally got on with it. Congratulations."

Hermione sighed. This wasn't how they had planned for him to find out, but she hoped he would be happy for the two of them. "We want you to be there, Harry. You're our best friend. Ron wants you as his best man. I put up a fight to have you as my maid of honour, but we decided you wouldn't look very good in a dress."

A shadow of a grin passed over Harry's features. "Really? After everything, you still want me there?"

"Of course we do, you prat. We love you, even if you have been an idiot. Besides, Ginny needs a date," she finished, a gleam in her eye.

Harry snorted, "Right, she'd never go with me. Not after everything I put her through."

"Of course she will, Harry!"

"You mean she isn't angry?"

"Oh, she's furious, no doubt about that. You know her temper. But she loves you, Harry. She's always loved you. If you can show her that you're making an effort to change your life around, I'm sure she'd give you another chance. People do stupid things when they're in love, after all."

Harry sank to the bed, putting his head into his hands.

"I don't know if I can do this, Hermione."

She sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "You won't have to do it alone, Harry. I've always been there for you. I always will be. It's time you remembered that."

He glanced up at her, and slowly nodded his head. "I know." Taking a deep breath, Harry climbed to his feet and held a hand out to Hermione. "Shall we?"

She rolled her eyes, but accepted his hand. _Leave it to Harry to act like this was all his idea._ He pulled her to her feet and directly into an embrace.

"Thank you, Hermione," he whispered, releasing all but her hand.

Pulling away, Hermione wiped her eyes. "T-to the ministry, then?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

Harry nodded and flashed her a grin.

Hand in hand, they turned in unison and disapparated, together.

_**A/N: **__Thanks to everyone who stuck with this story. If you've read it, I'd really love to hear from you…which chapter was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Did the characters seem true to canon? I know that alcoholic Harry might be a bit of a stretch…too much? I'm relatively new to the fanfiction world, so any pointers you could give me would be really appreciated. Thanks a lot! (And for a version of events where Harry is actually able to cope with the final battle, you can check out my other story, _Purpose and Priorities).


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